Cold Fingers
by Raetrii
Summary: "I will be gentle, as this is your first time drowning."


**A/N:** kinda cooked this up whilst waiting for inspiration to strike again for ambience ;w; i didn't really plan it out, so y'KNOW. but i hope it's okay! (i might write another chapter for it if people like if pfff i'm not sure yet)

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"Now, now," a soft voice crooned, fingers running through soft blond hair, "don't flinch away from me like that, _pet. _I don't like it when you seem to _fear _me." Cold lips pressed up against the tanned skin of a slender through, feeling the racing pulse beneath the almost _possessive _gesture. "I am not going to _hurt _you – why would I be so quick to break my new _toy_, hm?" Low laughter followed these words, though there was no humour in the noise. It was cold, really, sending a shiver down Sheik's spine.

The room was cold, but the deceivingly gentle fingers that played with Sheik's hair were colder still. He was soaked to the skin, and, though he tried to tell himself that he was trembling was from the _cold _and not fear, he was ashamed of himself. He had slipped up, and now he was paying the price: he was trapped, helpless (and oh, how he hated that fact), with none other than the Hero of Time's dark side.

"Did you _know, _my dear _toy, _how easy it was to overcome you?" Cold fingers curled in Sheik's hair, which had long since come loose from his normal bandage cap, and harshly tugged the Sheikah's head until he was looking the shadow being in the face. A quick intake of breath was the only sign of surprise that Sheik allowed himself: anything beyond that would be like admitting to his own weakness. (Oh, he _was _weak, though: he was wounded, and that was why he couldn't get away.) "You didn't _remember _that I am _equal _to the Hero: no, I am _better _than him. I have no _morals, _and he– He is bound by such petty things. I have _nothing _holding me back."

Sheik said nothing, fighting the urge to shudder as the hand slipped from his hair to ghost icy fingers across tanned skin. He wouldn't flinch away: there was no need to anger the darker being more than he already had. Still, his heart was racing, every instinct screaming at him to _move, _to _get away, _but he couldn't. He had been wounded, and, at any rate, the Hero's dark side was holding him in place with the other arm, his back against the shade's chest. Sheik could feel a heartbeat, surprisingly: part of him had been half-confined that this… _Dark Link, _for lack of a better name, was not a creature of flesh and blood, but it seemed that Sheik had been wrong.

Feeling the water soaking him further, Sheik shivered. He had not said a word since he had been brought into this room: he saw no point in doing so. He had nothing to say, and he doubted even if he _did _that Dark Link would listen to him. Sheik was just a toy now: then again, hadn't he always been a toy of sorts? He had been a loyal servant to the royal family, and now he was a _toy_.

"_What _should I do to you? Kill you? Torture you?" The shadow being's voice was sweet, fingers one again gently running through Sheik's dampened hair. The wounded Sheikah said nothing, though his heart rate picked up, and his breath hitched in his throat. He was certain that Dark Link noticed, for, seconds later, low laughter (cold, just as the shade's skin was) echoed through the seemingly endless room. "My, _my, _do I _scare _you, little Sheikah?"

Sheik said nothing, his gaze fixed dead ahead. He would not give this _monster _the satisfaction of knowing that he was scared. That wasn't how it worked: Sheik was terrified, yes, but he would hide it, even if his cowl had been torn and his face was exposed for this _creature _to see.

Lips were pressed against the blond's ear, breath ghosting across his skin. He was entirely in Dark Link's power, and that scared him. Sheik had always liked having control, but now – now he had _none. _He was wounded (an injury to his leg), and he was weakened. His only chance of escape was if he somehow recovered enough to get away…

And that was quite a big _if. _Who knew if he would even live that long?

"Don't worry, little _toy," _his captor drawled, "I won't be doing _too _much damage so soon. I must keep you around to entertain me, hm? It gets so _very _lonely in here, you know." The fingers in his hair were almost _soothing, _though Sheik knew it was all a lie. He couldn't let his guard down: the arm about his waist, fingers digging into his side, were a reminder of that. He was… helpless.

"Shall we get _started?" _

Sheik shivered, terrified, though he did his best to hide it. He had to remain strong so he had some chance of getting away – assuming that he was even allowed to live (part of him wondered if it might be better to die; this creature seemed merciless).

"Don't worry," Dark whispered, smirk evident in his very tone. "I will be kind, since this is your first time _drowning_. My, my, how _pretty _you will look, gasping for breath…"

_**Fin. **_


End file.
